Boondocks Forever
by Revolutionary in the making
Summary: An ongoing compilation of tales in the Boondocks universe. Made to resemble the cartoon. No there won't be any shipping. No, they won't get any older. And no, this won't be filled to the brim with original characters.
1. Rebirth of the King

Holla. Allow me to introduce Boondocks Forever. The entire premise of this is not to tell a single story. The whole idea is to highlight current events and satarize them while implementing them into the plot. Each tale will, hopefully, make you think as well as entertain. My goal is to make sure no character does something OOC for them. So if you think that I got them this way, message me(I enabled the instant messaging thing so this is a possibility).

Now this story is a about an event that we all have had the ire of experiencing these past couple of weeks and it annoyed the hell out of me. Then, an idea popped in my head. This story is a lot like the Martin Luther King,Jr episode as in that it asks, "What if?" So it won't be the status quo like the story's that come after it. Hopefully, you'll like it.

* * *

"Yo man," Riley shouted enthusiastically, "Lebron tryna git dat paper."

Huey wasn't paying attention to the sports broadcast or hasn't paid any attention to any source of news since they kept lampooning about the same thing. "Where is Lebron going?" asked by sports announcers and even highly respected political officials. The unwavering social critic took this moment to read a book while his brother and his grandparent discussed this seemingly tremendous event that was paramount to everything else in the world.

"Boy, Lebron don't care about the money." Grandpa argued. "Lebron old school. He wants to git him a championship and a white woman in Miami. Or even those fine ass Latinas. Mhm.

"Whatevah, Granddad." Riley rolled his eyes. "The king knows dat championships and ho's don't mean shit. Nigga gotta keep his paper stack up and head out to New York or even Chicago cuz dats where da money at. Ya know wah I mean?"

"No," Huey flatly interrupted.

"Look at Huey hatin' again," Riley slapped his knee as he giggled and then leaned towards Huey as if trying to provoke his older brother. "What? You mad cuz my man, Lebron doin' bigga thangs den you evah will. Nigga stop hatin'"

"Yeah, Huey," Robert agreed. "Stop hatin' cuz Lebron is successful. Lebron James is out there livin' da dream dat all black folks want."

"And what is that?" Huey begrudgingly asked.

"A multi-million dollar contract and big tittied women."

Huey wished that he didn't ask. Huey sighed and then focused his attention back to his book. Suddenly the door bell rang. The loner took this opportunity to excuse himself from the ignorance around him. While Granddad and Riley continued to discuss the future of Lebron James, the intellectual child only shook his head at the prospect of what his Grandfather stated.

"We should aspire to become more."

Huey finally reached the front door and slowly turned the door knob. When he opened the door, the shadow that the door casted over him was replaced by a shadow that a towering figure loomed over him. Huey's eyes scanned the intimidating presence from bottom to top. The humongous man was only a few inches away from grazing the top of the door frame. He was wearing a black tuxedo and a white head band. When his face escaped the sun's glare, Huey recognized him.

"Yo, little man," the towering man cheesed. "You probably know who I am."

"An introduction and common courtesy are not beyond anyone," Huey reflected back while giving him a bored expression.

The man raised an eyebrow. He certainly wasn't expecting such an abrasive boy.

"Well," the man quickly recovered, "My name is Lebron James. You know. I am referred to as the king of basketball. The second coming of MJ?"

Huey's expression remained the same much to Lebron's chagrin. The four foot child sized the man up and then looked around as if he were waiting for something.

"Why are you here?" The unwavering child asked in an unimpressed tone which only threw Lebron off even more.

"My limo caught a flat on the way to my man's, Melo, wedding and I thought yall could hook me up."

The child held the same expression on his face as if someone had sucked the joy out of him.

"Granddad!" The emotionless boy called out.

* * *

Granddad immediately welcomed their guest and invited him inside. The entire family and their celebrity guest gathered in the living room. Riley and Granddad praised him while Huey payed him no mind. Lebron was still kind of bothered by the stoic's attitude towards him.

"Oh, shit," Riley's clasped his fist over his mouth. "I still can't believe my nigga, Lebron, is up in dis bitch."

"Boy," the elderly man called out, "Watch your mouth."

"Whatevah, Granddad," Riley brushed him off and then diverted his attention back to his idol. "So man, you decided what team you signin' to? I mean you gotta go were da money at, man and Miami spendin' on niggas so I would be lik, "Eh, 200 mil."

Lebron chuckled at the little guy's antics.

"You will find out at the conference later on today, little man."

"Now you should go to Miami with D-Fade and what's his name." Granddad stroked his chin and looked up to ceiling imagining, "You don't have any idea how many fine, foxy senoritas there are down there. Shoot, you should go down thur and git me one!"

The NBA superstar burst into laughter.

"Will do, Granddad," Lebron took a sip from his water bottle. "Thanks for inviting me into yall home. I really appreciate it. I won't be here long."

Granddad waved his hand. "It's no problem. You can stay for as long as you like."

Before Lebron could respond, there was a sudden rumbling coming from the front door.

"Robert, I got them gutters clean fah yall chimps!" the voice yelled out.

A portly, old, dark skinned man with a weird eye entered into the living room and his eyes lay upon Lebron.

"So why you brought dis gorilla lookin' nigga in da white man neighborhood?"

"What?" The behemoth of a man couldn't hold his temper.

"Ruckus, you know that this is Lebron James," Granddad stood up.

"Yeah, the nigga looked bettah in a gorilla suit." Ruckus laughed, "You thank you one of the best players of all time? What about Larry Bird? Pistol Pete? Hell you ain't even the greatest dunkah of all time. Brent Barry was bettah den you, boy."

"Is he serious?" Lebron asked the Freeman family.

"Oh, he is just getting started," Huey answered.

"You thank you sumthin, huh? The white man made you into who you are, boy, so da white man can break you," the black white supremacist declared. "Look at dat boy, Allen Iverson. A broken monkey who can't even dribble the ball right no mo."

Lebron stood up, but before he could do anything Robert cut him off.

"Ruckus, get out of here now!"

"Phhmph, whatevah, yall bunch of baboons." The audacious old man retorted while leaving, "The white lord should've nevah gave yall niggas money."

As the door closed behind the unruly old man and his footsteps ceased, Lebron was livid.

"Yo, is dat dude forreal?"

"Don't pay him no mind," Granddad waved, and then glanced at his watch, "Oh no! I got to go get my groceries for the party I'm havin' later today before the Decision comes on. "

The elder Freeman placed his hands on his head struggling to think of a plan. He snapped his fingers and glanced at Lebron.

"Lebron, could you watch Huey while I take Riley to the grocery store for the time being?"

"Sure, old man, but why just Huey?" he couldn't help, but ask.

"Cause," Granddad glared at his grandson who was deeply invested in his book at the time, "Huey just had to stage a protest about how Wal Mart, Publix, and shit poisons the masses or whatevah the hell he is goin' on about and had to get his little narrow behind banned from all markets in the city."

"When you get sick , I won't even waste my breath and say "I told you so."" Huey said as he turned a page in his book.

* * *

The boy didn't move an inch since his granddad and his little brother left. The basketball prodigy was starting to wonder why he even needed supervision. The quiet boy didn't even pay any attention to him, and acted as if he was just there alone. Lebron tried to shape some sort of interaction with the kid.

"So," Lebron initiated the conversation, "do you watch basketball?"

"No," the boy quickly responded without even giving the questioner his eyes.

Lebron felt a little relieved by this.

"So that's why you never heard of me."

Oh, I know who you are," Huey corrected him while still focusing on his book. "I just don't really care."

"You don't care?" The basketball prodigy asked with a tinge of anger in his gruff voice.

"Nope," Huey shrugged.

"I am Lebron James! The hottest free agent in the NBA and two-time MVP! Whatever team I play on will forever change the face of that franchise! I am an entire state's economy! Who could possibly be more important than me?"

Huey closed his book and closed his eyes.

"Who won the MVP award in 1970?"

Lebron was perplexed by the boy's obscure question. He raised an eyebrow and tried to think of a response.

"Huh?"

"Who won the NBA MVP award in 1970," the afro militant re-iterated, "And who were the NBA champions that year?"

"I don't know…"Lebron answered.

"Who won it in 1967, or 1985, or 1990?"

"I don't know." Lebron lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, "What does this have to do with anything?"

Huey gave the man a stern look.

"Your entire life has been defined by a game. You think you've achieved great things, but there is nothing momentous or exceptional about you or your prestigous awards. "

Lebron was slightly startled by the youth's inquiry.

"Those people do not care about you," Huey continued. "As soon as you become damaged goods, as soon as you do the slightest thing wrong, lose any sort of ability, or when the next big thing arrives, you will fade into obscurity just like every other previous NBA star has before. Look at Allen Iverson."

"Allen Iverson was a great player," the NBA superstar defended.

"Allen Iverson didn't know anything else, but how to play basketball. Now he desperately struggles to make himself seem relevant. His fans left him for the next big thing, his family is torn apart, and all that is left is a broken man who knows nothing else, but basketball," Huey interjected.

Lebron fell to his knees. He couldn't believe it. This kid has gotten to him. Could it be true?

"Your dreams and aspirations have been, in fact, your limitations," Huey's voice and words were now engrained in the man's cranium. "I can see that you are on the edge. I know that you are afraid."

"Afraid of what?" asked the broken man.

"Afraid of achieving your true potential. You're afraid of change," Huey's eyes bore into Lebron's eyes. "I don't know the future. I'm not going to tell you how this is going to end, but I will tell you how this could begin. I'm going to get off this couch. Then I'm going to show you what those people don't want you to see."

"See what?" His mind desperately seeking answers.

"I'm going to show you a world without you," Huey ominously pointed at the 6"8' giant. "A world not bound by their rules and regulations. Without borders. Without boundaries."

Huey got off the couch and walked up the man. The kid looked up to him even though the man was still on his knees and looked him in the eyes.

"A world," the kid dragged on, "where anything is possible. Where we go from there is a choice that is up to you."

* * *

"Boy, hurry up. The thing is about to start!"

Granddad would find an excuse to throw a party for almost any reason. It was his way of maintaining his positive image within the neighborhood and showing off his cooking. Since Tom is a huge basketball fan, he and his family, of course, was the first to be invited. Huey's best friend, Michael Caesar, came over as well, and Riley's closest friend, although he would never admit it, Cindy arrived to the party with her family. All of the kid's save for Riley sat around the living room are while the corn rowed one was stuck running errands for Granddad.

"I can't believe that you guys met Lebron James," Tom laughed and carried on. "Was he a nice guy?"

"Yeah," Granddad yelled from the kitchen. "He even signed Riley's basketball and a few of his expensive ass jerseys."

"And Imma sell dem bitches too and make me some money," Riley deviously said to himself.

"What, boy?"

"Nothing Granddad," he responded back. "But I'm still mad that Granddad left him to babysit Huey and took me ta da grocery store. I mean feel bad fah Lebron havin' to take care of gayass Huey. Sheeyat, no wonder he was in so much in a hurry ta leave."

"Wait," Caesar interrupted. "Yall left Lebron here with Huey?"

"Yeah," Riley answered as if it weren't no big deal, "Ain't that messed up?"

"So did you and Lebron talk about anything," Jazmine asked her friend, who was reading a book.

"This and that," Huey answered.

"Wait," the dread head interrupted again. "You talked to Lebron James."

Huey nodded.

"Man, would it be somethin' if Lebron moved in dis neighborhood?" Cindy pondered. "There would be parties all ovah dis piece."

Caesar was still worried about the revelation that his best friend alone without supervision.

"You didn't do what I- "

"Shhh," Riley cut him off. "It's about to start."

Granddad and the rest of the guests crowded around television set. Everybody's eyes were focused on the images on the screen except for Huey. He didn't care.

* * *

Lebron and the reporter sat on the podium with a TV audience in the background. Lebron twitted his thumbs while the entire country awaited his decision. The spotlight was on him like it has always been.

"So have you made your decision," the reporter asked.

"We wouldn't be here if I haven't?" The towering giant chillingly replied.

"Good," the reporter stated with no hesitance in his voice. "So what team are you going to sign on?"

"I'm not signing on any team," Lebron answered with a wide smile on his face. "I am announcing my retirement."

"What?" The reporter channeled what everybody was thinking.

"I'm going to college to get an education, and I am no longer Lebron James." Lebron looked at the camera with a sense of hubris, "I am now known as Lebron X."

The reporter's jaw dropped and so did the entire studio audience.

"I will donate half of my riches to the cause and form many left organizations dedicated to fighting the war," Lebron continued.

"The war on what?" The reporter asked while shocked by this declaration.

Lebron re-focused his attention back on his interviewer.

"The war on poverty," he answered while getting up from his chair.

* * *

Granddad…no, the entire room full of guests couldn't believe it. Huey, on the other hand, acted as if nothing happened and continued reading. Noticing the child's apathy and lack of a reaction, everybody diverted their attention from the television and unto the revolutionary.

"So what else is on TV?" Huey asks before he turned a page in his book.

* * *

See? Thats why you don't leave guests alone with Huey.

Next time on Boondocks Forever, Granddad's past haunts him again. Can the boys save his ass from the wrath of Nicole in the next chapter of Boondocks Forever, "Niggas ain't shit."


	2. NAS

It has been a LONG TIME. I had this in my documents and I recently decided to finish it up. I have been on a journey that still hasn't gotten me laid, sadly. :(

Anyways, this is chapter 2 of Boondocks Forever. Yes, I am moving at the pace of Aaron McGruder.

*bum-dum-tish*

This is a continuation of a story that never came in fruition. I remember Aaron McGruder stated that he would never make a character that represented black women because black women can't take a joke. He may be right. So since I am not getting any and I have nothing to fear. I do what he wouldn't do. Ladies, this is the deconstruction of the idea of the strong black woman. Yes, I won't be getting any action for months so why the hell not?

* * *

Nicole Johnson was a single, bitter black woman who had nothing, but animosity towards other black men. Strangely enough, her contempt for her fellow brothers didn't deter her from pursuing a black mate. However, her bitterness, unknowingly to her, turned away any man. Not willing to acknowledge that she, herself, was the problem, she blamed her shortcomings on the men that she frightened.

"Yall, bitch ass niggas can't handle a strong, independent, black woman," she proclaimed. "Ain't stunnin' yall good fah nothin' niggas. My vibrator do all the things yall little dicks can't!"

Like many angry black women, Nicole sought camaraderie amongst her fellow sisters that were also jilted and estranged from love. In these pity parties, the women would reach out and console each other about their problems with the opposite sex.

"So girl, you tellin' me that you think he cheatin' on you."

"Yeah," the woman cried. "He actin' different and he don't even look at me the same anymo'. Maybe I should give him some space?"

"Girl, fuck dat shit," the boisterous woman exclaimed. "You bettah tap dat nigga's phone. I got bugs and all kinds of shit to put dat leash on that nigga."

Nicole's brand of counsel had many patients, and thus she formed every black man's worst nightmare: A legion of angry black women known as the N.A.S. crew or otherwise known as Niggas Ain't Shit. This crew was essentially a network of bitter, overprotective, clingy women. The organization existed on the sole purpose of demeaning, disrupting, and belittling all black men. They approved of very little things that black men have achieved with the exception of Tyler Perry and Shamar Moore, and have openly endorsed Tyler Perry movies and weave.

One of founding members, and Nicole's best friend, left the bitter brigade because she, unlike the others, didn't quite give up on the prospect of love. This woman kept telling herself that she only had one last date with this last guy and if it didn't work, she would return to the group. However, things didn't work that way. Her date, literally, ended up being her last date as well as her last moments on Earth. The woman's name was Luna, and her best friend vowed to get revenge.

* * *

"Boys!" A scantily clad Granddad yelled out from the kitchen, wearing nothing but a towel. "Who the hell drunk up my orange juice?"

Huey diverted his eyes towards his younger brother who started to whistle while shoving his hands in his pocket. The mischievous child started towards the front door. His weary eyed brother didn't even give his younger sibling a chance.

"Riley did it."

"Ay," Riley called out while sprinting towards his exit. "NO SNITCHING!"

The boy made a break towards the door while his Granddad, sporting nothing but a towel, went after him. Huey, sensing the oncoming distress coming in from a mile away, closed his eyes and sighed while slowly following behind them.

Huey went outside expecting an essentially naked old man chasing after his grandson so he could administer corporal punishment. To his astonishment, he saw his brother, his best friend, and the old man staring across the street at the Dubois house watching some sort of event taking place.

"Hey Ceez," the Afro Ass kicker called out to the dread head. Caesar appropriately nodded his head at his militant buddy and then immediately diverted his attention across the street.

Huey stood between his belligerent brother and his best friend to see what was going on. There was a woman that stood on the hood of Mr. Dubois' car while brandishing a baseball bat. She was dark skinned and pretty attractive. There were also 3 more dark skinned women that also surrounded the automobile.

"What in the hell is going on," asked the naked old man.

"Mhm," the woman sneered while waving around the aluminum weapon. "Thought you was too good fah a real sistah, huh. You, niggas, is all the same. "

Tom quickly hurried out his house and held out his hands trying to keep the peace.

"I don't know who you are," he gulped staring at the weapon she was carrying. "But you are making a huge mistake."

The intimidating woman quickly pointed the end of the bat at the startled attorney.

"Negro, please," another one declared. "We know you killed our home girl cause you couldn't handle a real sistah. Probably dumped her after she was too much for yo little dick to handle before you killed her."

"Tom," a voice from the inside the house called out. A blond haired blue-eyed woman walked outside the door. She, obviously upset, glared at her husband. "What on Earth are they talking about?"

Before the stuttering man could explain that this was all just one big misunderstanding, the woman cut him off.

"Oh hell naw," the woman standing on top of the vehicle growled. "This punk ass mah fuckah dumped my girl for a **white bitch**!"

"Tom!" Sarah demanded while her husband stood there in fear and shock. She placed her hands on her hips and stared down her husband "What did you do?"

"You the nigga's sloppy seconds, bitch," one of the ravenous declared.

"I bet the punk's dick can't is smaller than my pinky finger cut in half."

"That's probably why he wit that white bitch. I bet he didn't even pay fah the house. No good nigga."

The insults kept coming in while Tom was desperately trying to explain what's going on to his wife, but was failing miserably. Sarah was not amused with her allegedly adulterating husband.

"Let's teach dis lil' dick havin' nigga what the deal is." The woman unsheathed her bat.

Tom turned towards his accusers and then saw a battle ready woman wielding the baseball bat high above her head ready to attack.

"Okay," the prosecutor thought to reason with them. "Let's talk about this before anyone makes any hasty-"

At that moment, the baseball bat clashed into the car window. The woman showed no remorse and kept clanging away at the car.

"Oh," the frightened man panicked while attempting to grip what little hair he had in his hair. "Not my car!"

"Yeah," the light skinned woman yelled. She then pulled out car keys out her green, Gucci purse. "Let's teach this mah fuckah!"

"Oh shit!" the 3 boys and the elderly, naked black man yelled in unison with a look of grimace and amusement.

The key wielding one began to scratch against the car paint. The screeching sound of the key rubbing against the metal made anyone within the vicinity cringe.

Tom, who was now in tears, was literally trying to pull the skin off his face. "I just got that paint redid!"

The other women in the mob cheered as they watched their sisters demolished Tom's car. Tom fell to his knees and looked on helplessly while his wife kept demanding answers. Finally, the women stopped. The car was completely totaled. The tires were slashed, and the windshield was smashed. One side of the car had the words 'Little dick' engraved in the paint.

"Damn," Riley shook his head. "I don't even like Tom dat much, but dats fucked up."

The bat wielding maniac jumped off the car and pointed the end of the bat at the somber district attorney.

"That's what you get for fucking wit my girl Luna," she sneered.

Robert's jaw dropped in shock while Huey's and Riley's eyes opened in realization. Caesar was confused and then elbowed Huey to get clarification.

"Who in the hell is Luna," the dread head asked.

Tom stood up and balled up his fist. The man glared at his neighbor who had been monitoring to keep quiet. The neighbor who had been a spectator to the whole event was begging him not to tell these crazy ass women the truth. The neighbor who didn't do a damn thing to help him was now asking him to take a dive. Of course, Tom would help him and keep quiet.

_Wrong._

"I didn't kill Luna," the man declared dramatically. The women raised their eyebrows. The attorney continued, "Luna was turned down by a man that I thought was my friend and would help me when I am in need."

"Okay," Caesar mused. "We need to get some popcorn."

"The real culprit and the real reason why Luna is dead," the now emblazoned man pumped his chest with passion as he directed his index finger at the real perpetrator," Robert Freeman!"

The mob of women turned their attention towards the direction he was pointing. They saw three boys and a pink towel between them. They then directed their attention at a sprinting and, now, completely naked old man who made a dash towards his house. They glared at the coward as the door slammed behind him.

"This is going to be a long day," Huey sighed.

* * *

"What am I going to do?" the old man scurried back in forth in his living room. "Those crazy ass women are going to kill me."

Huey just stared at the worried old man while Riley ignored him and continued to play his PSP. Caesar, who seemed genuinely worried for him, tried to console the old man.

"C,mon, Mr. Freeman," the young emcee inquired. "How bad can they be?"

"Caesar," Huey interrupted and placed a hand on his buddy's shoulder. "They are black women who watch Tyler Perry and think it is perfectly acceptable to act that irrational."

Caesar lifted an eyebrow and began to think hard of his radical friend's words.

"So do you guys have a tank?"

"Man, Granddad, we always be havin' ta pay fo all the bullshit you get us into," Riley added in. "First dat hoe you met at the grocery store, then Stinkmeaner, then Stinkmeaner again, then all those crazy ass broads you be meetin' on da internet, then dat dude you thought was yo kid, then dat thing you had with weed, and now dis shit."

"Boy, hush," Granddad responded, tired of his grandson's claims. "Ain't my fault 90% of women are crazy. Shoot. Should have gotten me a baferrilla."

"A baferilla," Caesar and Huey repeated.

"A big, fat, ugly woman that look like a Gorilla," he declared. "They ain't gonna do shit. They just happy to be wanted."

There was a silence among the boys after such a provocative statement.

"Okay," Caesar went on, trying to forget that the statement was ever uttered. "Who is this Luna person any ways?"

"Luna was a woman that Granddad brought over after I warned him of the many dangers of the internet," Huey responded ignoring the pierce glare of his grandfather. "She was highly unstable and had many personal demons. She chillingly admitted that she was a serial killer, and was raised by wolves."

"Yeah, dat hoe was crazy," Riley again added while playing his PSP while cackling. "That ho knew kung-fu and kicked Huey's ass."

"Funny," the revolutionist retorted, "I recall an 80 plus year old woman handing you your ass."

"Man," Riley dropped his PSP. "That old bitch don't count!"

"Anyways," Huey shrugged off his brother's excuse. "We have to get the hell out of here."

Granddad snapped his fingers and ran to the phone and started rapidly dialing. "The hell with that, boy. I am calling the police."

With that statement, Riley jumped to his feet and persisted after his grandfather.

"How you gonna go out like a bitch, Granddad?"Riley insisted while Granddad had the phone to his ear. "Gonna call da police on some broads? You ain't got no respect fo' yoself."

"Don't call yo granddaddy a bitch or I will whoop yo' ass!" Granddad yelled, but then shifted his tone immediately. "No not your ass, nice police lady… I know that I am yo' Granddad…. Although I am sure that you have a really nice one… I need yo—"

"You bitch made, Granddad!" Riley declared. "Snitchin' on the police is one thang, but snitchin' to them fo' protection from some girls? Dat shit ain't gangsta, granddad."

"I will beat yo' ass and rub chlorine in the wounds if you don't stop—"Granddad's tone shifted again. "No, not you. I was talking to my-. No, don't hang up!"

The dial tone heard from the phone showing that Granddad didn't get his wish.

"Okay," Huey sighed after watching his brother's and granddad's usual antics. "So we still up for leaving?"

"We can't," Granddad responded with a sense of disappointment in the voice. "I am still on probation and can't leave the state."

"What dis 'we' bidness?" Riley interjected. "I am goin' to Aunt Cookie's house."

"And you were calling Granddad the coward?" Huey replied with the usual disdain in his voice.

"Ay, I ain't wit all dis crazy bitch kung-fu shit," Riley crossed his arms and turned his back on Huey.

"So you are just going to leave?" Huey asked and shrugged. "What about your stuff? I don't think Granddad is in any mood to help you move them. How are you even going to get there? It is a long way from here to Chicago. I guess you are going by foot."

"If I'm going to suffer, then yo' little narrow ass is gonna suffer, too," Granddad interjected.

Riley's jaw dropped and he pouted. Huey and Granddad looked at him with disgust until the dread headed boy who has been peering out the window the whole time interfered in their argument.

"I hate to interrupt such as touching moment, but…" Caesar's voice trembled. "Those crazy bitches are standing on the sidewalk in front of the house."

Granddad and the boys hurried to the window and crowded the area. Caesar was a little dissuaded by the invasion of personal space.

"Yall niggas need to calm the hell down," he protested.

Before their eyes, 4 figures stood in front of the house.

"Nicole, let's get this no good nigga," the light skin woman who is holding a baseball bat gestured towards the tall dark skin woman who bashed Tom's car in.

"And the little niggettes, too," the supposed leader chimed in. "We have to get them while their young."

"Mmmm-hhhmmm," the dark skinned concurred. "Tyrone, Shaquille, Jamarcus, and Jalen ain't ever pay they child support and them little niggas already fuckin' up."

"Shyyyattt," the large heavy set woman of the crew yelled out. "I say we skin them niggas and put da leftovers out fah everybody to see."

The women cackled and stepped closer to the house. Their menacing presence encompasses everything around them. They inch closer and closer to the house while the dwellers in the home panic.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WE GONNA DO?" Granddad exclaimed.

"I'm too young to die," Riley dug his head in the couch while in feeble position. "Them hoes is gonna skin us. Why you couldn't you just die alone, Granddad?"

"Boy, don't blame this on me," Granddad denied.

While the two bickered, Huey and Caesar tried to settle down.

"Okay," Caesar took a deep breath. "Do we still have the homemade tear gas?"

"We used up all the ingredients and don't even ask about the Black Power Fist," Huey replied in a bored tone. "It is still under a lot of maintenance."

"So the one time in your life where we completely need you to be insanely prepared," the optimistic child retorted in a disappointed tone. "You are not?"

Granddad looked up as if an idea came to him. He jumped in the air and was bearing a smirk. The young revolutionary noticed the sudden change in his elder's demeanor and demanded to know what he was thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" the weary-eyed child asked.

"I am going to use my plan B," Robert deviously smiled at his extremely disciplined grandson.

"What's plan B?" the confused boy persisted for clarification.

The women were now on the grass walking closer to the front door as if they were tainting their prey. All of the sudden, the noticed the door open and noticed a boy fly out.

"Go get 'em, boy," a voice coming from the door called out while it shut quickly.

'Oh, hell naw!' the Afro bearing boy thought. The boy picked himself up and dusted himself off. He looked up and say 4 towering figures in front of him.

"Damn," Huey sequined breathlessly.

"GET DAT NAPPY HEADED, NIGGA," the large, boisterous woman demanded as she lunged at child.

Huey reacted instantly and leaped on the lunging bruisers back. The moment that his tiny feet landed on a back roll and before his attacker could notice, Huey quickly performed at front flip and used the momentum of the maneuver to heel kick the back of her head knocking her wig into the nearby bush. The devastating aerial attack knocked her out instantly and the victim landed face first on the grass. Huey landed on her large lifeless body.

The women were shocked at the child's expertise and approached him cautiously. The child widened his stance farther than his shoulder width. He extended his arms out and the clenched them into tiny fists. His fists drew into each side of his waist waiting for his adversaries.

Two of them decided to approach him at the same time. One pulled out a dagger while the other stuck to her bat. The bat wielding one swung her bat towards the front of the little martial arts expert's face. Huey expertly dodged the attack by leaning his entire upper body matrix-style. He then quickly parried away from his potential assailant. Before he could catch his breath, the dagger-wielding maniac swung her large blade. The afro dynamo dodged for the first strike, but his frantic movement opened him up for a second attack. The woman lunged her blade into his abdominal area. As if time slowed down, Huey watched helplessly as the blade inched closer to his tiny body. The dagger tore through his clothes easily, but it barely missed his tiny body. The now relieved child performed a double back-spring away from his crazed attackers so he could see them at a longer distance.

Huey placed his hand on his clothing damage and closed his eyes as he sighed in relief. He gazed at his opponents who ceased attacking him. They were waiting for the boy to move. Huey diverted his eyes towards the house window and saw three black faces peering inside. His best friend was eating a bucket of popcorn while eagerly watching Huey fighting for his life.

'I should just let them win,' the retired revolutionary thought to himself as he shook his head in disappointment. Huey opened his eyes and a look of determination fell on his face. The boy's pertinent scowl startled his adversaries.

"This lil' nigga means bidness," Nicole, who has been watching the fight the whole time, inquired.

The child took a large step forward and, in response, the women took several small steps back. Huey closed his eyes tightly and placed his feet together as if he were in deep focus. His left hand stood in front of him as if he were holding something invisible. His right hand started to hover slowly over his motionless left hand and then suddenly changed speed in mid-sequence. A large gust of wind formed with one wave of his hand that almost knocked over two of the attackers. Nicole stood motionless like a mountain as stood observed the child. Leaves and small amounts of flora levitated and circled around the boy. His afro sweltered with the wind and appeared as if some mysterious force was pulling it up. He opened his eyes with a now more ominous glare fell on his face. He spread his legs father than shoulder width apart and flung his arms to the sides. The child was feral. His stance mirrored his mind state. He has now regressed to a more primal state and gave off an aura of unbridled fury. His opponents trembled at the transformation and before they could so much as to bat an eyelash, Huey was on the move. He dashed from side to side so quickly that the women could barely keep up with his movements. The unfortunate woman who slashed open his shirt thought she caught a glimpse of him, and lunged her dagger in a similar matter as before. She missed, again. The tiny animal suddenly appeared in front of her glaring into her eyes. Before she could react, the child displayed yet another acrobatic move and performed a flash kick into her jaw. The force of the attack launched the woman several feet in the air.

The bat wielding woman watched in awe as her comrade flew into the air before she noticed Huey was now beside her. When she settled down, she reacted to the child and suddenly swung her bat with as much force as possible. The boy didn't even bother evading the attack and let out a terrifying yell while swatting the oncoming object with such force that the bat broke apart. Fear fell on her face, but before she could run away, the emblazoned child cocked his arm behind and unleashed a crushing uppercut in her stomach. The woman gagged and coughed up blood as she fell to her knees due to the crippling blow. Huey didn't waste any more time and launched himself in the air with a single leap.

The other lady was still falling down head first. She slowly started to regain her cognitive thought process and was starting to recognize her situation. Before she could do anything about her predicament, the furious kid reappeared in her face. Huey's scowl terrified her. However, she couldn't vocally project her fear as Huey suddenly started spinning 540 degrees and unleashed yet another kick into her jaw. She was now being sent back down to Earth at an angle. She opened her eyes expecting to see ground, but she wasn't so lucky. Huey had sent her to her fallen comrade who was still recovering from her own assault. When the formerly bat wielding maniac looked up, she saw her partner was about to crash in her. Before either of them could scream, the crash inevitably happened and it took them both out of the fight. It also removed a ton of freshly mowed grass from the lawn.

"BOY!" The child's grandfather screamed from the house. "I just got that grass landscaped a few weeks ago, GODDAMMIT!"

Huey landed on his feet like a cat. He stood with a confidence of a giant towering over the feeble town. Huey took a step towards his next victim who has been watching the boy's monstrous display with no look of fear or impression. She just waited. As Huey's tiny foot landed on the grass, he felt a sudden rush a pain consume his entire body. He fell to his knees holding his stomach in pain. Huey winced in pain as he desperately tried to claw his way back up, but it was to no avail. He was fucked.

Nicole let out a harrowing laugh as she walked towards the fallen child. "You remind me of my many ex-boyfriends," she quipped while lifting the child by the hair. "You start off all big and bad, but become limp only after a few notches."

She chuckled and then started unloading on the poor child. Each punch was more vicious than the last. The crazed woman took sadistic delight in treating the kid like a rag doll. After many agonizing seconds of the vicious beating passed by, the woman grew bored with the helpless child and threw him into the air with no concern for his well-being. Before he could touch the ground, she kicked him mercilessly through the front door of the house. The boy had lost consciousness. Nicole quickly pounced through the opening and began to scour through the house looking for the man who killed her best friend.

"Hello, nigga," she screamed with pride that could make anybody's blood chill. "YOU. IS. MY. BITCH. NOW!"

After her declaration, she heard a crash coming from the driveway. She dashed to the fallen front door and looked outside to peer outside. She saw a red car with flames screeched with a broken garage door on its trunk.

"Damn," Riley peered outside the window grimacing at his brother's body. "She uhn kicked Huey's ass, bad."

"And I ain't stickin' around tah get my ass kicked eitha," Granddad proclaimed as he drove his foot in the petal.

"Aye," Riley cackled as they left their potential murderer in the dust. "Dat ho lookin' all helpless and shit. I bet she gonna cry."

"Uhm," Caesar interrupted Riley's taunting while looking out the back window. "Riley, I think she heard you."

Riley and Granddad turned around and they couldn't believe their eyes. Nicole was dead on their tail. They were going at a 120 miles per hour and she was gaining on them.

Nicole was gaining on them _on foot. _

"You think this is the first time I had to catch a nigga speedin' in a car?"

Riley's mouth hung wide open and froze in place as if he caught a stroke. Granddad frantically refocused his attention to the road and Caesar kept his eye on the implacable woman.

"This lady is on some Terminator shit," the dread head yelled.

"Dayum, Granddad," the once frozen child complained, "Dis all yo fault."

"My fault? How was I supposed to know crazy women have crazier friends?" the desperate old man responded while steering frantically.

"Guys," the frightened Caesar interrupted again, "She is right on our bumper."

Riley turned around hoping that the jokester was playing one of his many pranks. He wasn't. Nicole had unsheathed two combat knives ready to stab and leaped onto the trunk of the car. She jabbed one knife into the trunk of the car and then followed in with the other knife. She repeated this as she made her way to the hood of the car. Caesar and Riley watched in horror as knife blades made it over the driver's seat. Granddad was too focused on his driving to notice and didn't know what was going on.

"Is the crazy bitch gone yet?" Robert asked the suddenly quiet boys.

"No," Nicole appeared in front of car windshield in front of Robert's face. "That bitch is gonna go crazy on yo' ass."

Robert and the boys squealed as Nicole punched through the windshield. She grabbed Robert by the throat in the midst of the shattered glass flying. Robert gasped for air flailing his arms around, but it was hopeless.

"This is for my girl, you bastard," the determined woman snarled.

Caesar tried to pry her off of Robert, but she was too strong. Riley tried to gain control of the wheel, but Granddad still had the petal floored into the ground.

"Riley, we have to do something," Caesar cried out as Robert kept hitting him unintentionally.

"I'm tryna, but dis crazy broad blockin' my view and—" Riley couldn't finish his sentence and was interrupted by Michael Caesar's screaming.

"WE ARE GOING TO CRASH!"

The car torpedoed into a fashion store window display. The car wreckage was devastating and appeared that there were no survivors. Suddenly, a feint cough could be heard through the smog. Robert managed to kick the jammed door open and fell to the floor. Caesar managed to crawl through a shattered window, but he was holding onto his arm wincing in pain. Riley showed signs of life, but he busted his head open and appeared to have landed in the passenger side of the car. Robert continued to crawl away from the wreckage, but he felt something tugging at his pants sleeve. He turned around to see what it was. To his horror, it was Nicole with was still determined to kill Robert.

"I will kill you, Robert Freeman," she grunted with blood curdling out of her mouth. Granddad scurried away as Nicole thrusted her combat knife right between his legs narrowing missing Robert's precious family jewels.

"How is this bitch still alive?" Caesar openly pondered pointing out that the wrecked car was now on top of Nicole's lower half of her body. She shouldn't be alive.

"As long as I have breath, I will kill the one who killed my girl," Nicole said as she tried, but unsuccessfully, to pull herself out. "It is because niggas like you that a strong… independent black women can't find a good black man."

"I didn't kill Luna," Granddad pleaded. "She killed herself."

"What?"

"Luna," Granddad continued, "took her own life. I tried to convince her that she needs to take responsibility for her own actions and stop being a victim."

"But…but…," Nicole couldn't believe it.

"You must be Nicole. Look," Granddad stood up and leaned on a nearby desk. "Blaming black men for yo' problems didn't help you. Hell, it done you mo' harm than good."

"All I wanted was a man who just would be there for me and help me with my weave and support me and be amazing in bed and be my knight in shining armour," she cried out. "That's all I wanted and you niggas ain't done nothin' but make it hard fo' a sistah."

"Woman," Granddad responded. "Maybe you should lower your expectation in men. Maybe. Just maybe, you would have more success if you didn't expect all of those qualities in your men. No man is perfect. I sho' as hell ain't. But last I checked, God made us all imperfect being so we can carry on. Maybe you should look for someone who loves you for you and your flaws just as you should love him for his."

With those words, Nicole's eyes became tear ducts. For once in her life, all the hatred she bore towards her fellow black men has been lifted. She no longer thought as them as a burden and looked in awe as an injured old man attempted to lift the car off of her. The authorities soon arrived to help her out from under the car.

A normal day that turned into a disaster still spawned enlightenment in one person.

* * *

Huey, Caesar, and Jazmine stood under the tree on the hill. It was their spot. Normally, Huey and Caesar would discuss current events with Jazmine confused, but with her friends injured, she did her best to assist them however she could.

"I can't believe your granddad didn't press charges," the dread head inquired with his arm in a sling. "The lady nearly killed us."

"Why would he?" Huey responded. "Nicole is paralyzed from the waist down and her organization paid for all the damages and more. As far as Granddad is concerned, she suffered enough. "

"She is definitely going to have trouble finding a man now," Caesar replied while messing with his cast.

"Well," the insightful child responded. "When she does, she will know that he loves her despite her flaws. I guess that is what it takes for her to be happy..."

The young revolutionary suddenly doubled over in pain holding on to his ribcage. Huey broke 9 ribs and had multiple bruises due to Nicole's onslaught.

"Huey Freeman," the mulatto child called out to the hurting boy with a tinge of worry in her voice. "You shouldn't move around so much."

"Riley got off easy," Michael said with a bit of jealously in his voice. "He just sprang his ankle and needed a band aid."

"I can't believe you guys survived that," Jazmine's green eyes glistened. "My dad found Huey lying prone on the broken front door and then, we heard about the crash downtown. I was so worried."

"Is Ms. Dubois still mad at Mr. Dubois?" Huey asked his make-shift nurse.

"Um…she was for a moment," Jazmine looked up into sky and put a finger on her mouth. "And then they went up to the room. Mommy kept saying daddy's name again and again and then, daddy kept asking mommy who was her daddy which confused me cause…"

"Okay," Huey cut her off. "Mr. and Mrs. Dubois are okay."

Jazmine then got up, skipped down the hill, and turned to her injured male friends.

"I made some cake for you guys and it should be ready by now. Do you want it?" Jazmine twiddled her fingers. "And before you ask Huey, I used a vegan recipe that I found on the internet."

"Thanks Jazzy," Caesar answered while elbowing Huey. "Isn't Jazmine so nice, Huey. You should thank her."

Huey grimaced a bit, but tried to mask the pain away from his friends. He didn't want Jazmine to have one of her worry attacks.

"Yes, please bring it and _please_ take your time," Huey put emphasis on the word.

Jazmine obliged and made her way down the hill.

"You are such an asshole," Caesar derisively said in the response of his friend's cold demeanor.

"Whatever," Huey shrugged and then looked down in the grass. "So what do you think is the secret of happiness?"

Caesar looked at his broken arm and stared from the hill at Jazmine and her mom who was helping Jazmine carry the cake.

"White women," Caesar nonchalantly replied.

"Stop that," Huey demanded.

* * *

Well there is that. Review, criticize, do whatever. Maybe, I might do another story.

Well...Oh hell fuck it.

I WILL WRITE FOR SEX.

;)


	3. Nubian Princess

Decided to transport this entire story to Boondocks Forever for two reason. 1.) I really don't want to focus too much on another Jazmine tale. 2.) Since Boondocks Forever is on-going project that will have a collection of tales, there is no need for a seperate story of mine to exist away from it.

I noticed that I am not getting a lot of reviews. I won't let it discourage me. I may not be the a great writer and my views may be polarizing, but that is part of my personality. If you want me to review your story, I wll whole heartedly. I just figured out how the damn thing works.

On with the story. This is about Jazmine's frustration with her hair and race. She enters in a pageant and crazy shit goes down. There is more to this tale than meets the eye. As I've repeatively said, everything that I write is satire. I will make a point. Enjoy.

* * *

Prologue: Narrated by Huey Freeman

Every morning Jazmine Dubois would wake up and furiously comb her strawberry blonde hair with no avail. She used all types of hair relaxers and ingredients, and spent countless hours every morning attempting to tame her rebellious hair, but there was never any success. In Jazmine's mind, it was a war that she couldn't afford to lose. Jazmine would go to extreme measures to achieve her goal of being socially accepted. She tried using her door as a make shift hair presser, ironing her hair which led to a iron shaped print on the foot of her bed, and even attempting to soak her hair in the sinks of the school's restrooms during every bathroom break. Of course, this led to a lot of puddles in the hallways and many kids slipped and got hurt. The custodians didn't even have to wet the floors thanks to her.

Jazmine was suffering from what many African American women such as herself (I don't care what she says about her mom being white and her dad being black or saying that's she is mixed. That's some ol' bullshit. She is as black as the Gabriel Union standing next to Dwayne Wade in a power out): Afro-Denial. Afro Denial is a psychological affliction wherein patients exhibit self-delusional behavior believing that they have long straight flowing hair, and also thinking that long this Eurocentric standard of beauty is universally accepted among the whole culture. They also refuse to accept their course, thick hair and sometimes insult it by using the words "Nappy", "Bad hair", and "Shitty."

Symptoms of this disorder range from getting a perm, believing the lighter your skin tone the more attractive you are, and to buying those damn beauty magazines that only accentuate European standards of beauty. Jazmine was a victim, more or less, to all these symptoms and it didn't help that her father, Thomas Lancaster Dubois, obviously favored white women and thought they were more attractive than his African sisters and when it came to his daughter, he tried to emphasize her European, Caucasian traits while diminishing her Nubian qualities.

Jazmine is like many insecure women in America. She needs assurance that this society will not allow her to have unless she looks a certain way.

*Side note:This is the only part that Huey is narrating.

* * *

"Daddy," Jazmine called out while straining to pin her hair down from her bedroom. This was part of her routine. She would attempt to repress her hair every morning before school for a good hour. She would fiddle with it while sitting on the edge of her bed and would always submit because she always had to catch the school bus. She would then always, full of shame and regret, tie up her hair in two afro puffs. This time, little miss Dubois opted for a more progressive approach.

"How can I fix my hair?"

"Well sweetie, I've always suggested that we use lye, but your mother said that you were too young," Tom paused, "And Huey would berate me day in and day out"

"Tom, are you serious?" Sarah, who just arrived in the scene, interrupted with a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "Tom, Huey is just a ten year old boy. What could he possibly…"

Sarah stopped and thought about her words carefully. Huey was a ten year old boy that had tranquilizer darts, bullet proof vests, a samurai sword, and an expertise in Martial Arts and Parkour. Huey could wreck just as much, if not more, havoc as his little brother, Riley, if he really wanted to. It also didn't help that Huey is considered a domestic terrorist as well as a militant radical who has the likes of Che Guevara on his wall like some sort of sports star. Huey was anything, but harmless even though he was genial towards the Dubois family.

"Never mind," Sarah shivered at the thought of an angry, pissed off Huey, "but nonetheless, Tom. It is a bit too extreme to suggest that Jazmine use lye. You forget that it _burns_. Plus, she is only ten years old."

Tom, already feeling overwhelmed and flustered by his wife's seemingly passive comments, retorted back, "Do you see any other "normal" girl with this kind of hair? Beyonce may have sported in that Austin Powers movie, but that's completely different and it was played for laughs. No woman considers it beautiful."

Tom, unaware that he completely forgot that Jazmine was still standing in front of him, didn't realize that Jazmine was in full blown tears until he heard her wail. "You (sob) don't (sob) think (sob) I'm…I'm…," Jazmine was so stunned that she couldn't even finished. She just sprinted out her bedroom door and ran downstairs with her arm covering her now drenched face. Tom and Sarah, still shocked, heard the front door slam which indicated that their daughter has officially vacated the proximity.

"Way to go, Tom," Sarah not hiding the incensed anger in her voice and gave her oblivious husband a terrifying glare, "You really are a model father." Sarah shook her head and left after her baby girl. Tom stumbled to explain himself, but Sarah wasn't hearing it. She didn't even turn around to her bumbling fool of a husband.

* * *

Huey, honestly, felt like he was wasting time at school. Shit, he could contest that he was smarter than most, if not all, of the school's faculty and they wouldn't even bother to debate. While kids were gawking about the Disney's number one sensations Hanna Montana and the Jonas Brothers, Huey was studying the works of Karl Marx and Anarcho-Syndicalism. While his history teacher was "performing", as Huey put it because it sure as hell as wasn't teaching the truth, he would either go to sleep or read one of his many books. While his English teacher was teaching about direct and indirect pronouns for the umpteenth time, Huey was reading Khalil Gibran. During recess, kids were playing hopscotch. During recess, Huey was in a handstand on top of his books testing his dexterity and balance while Caesar and Jazmine watched and sometimes tried themselves. Huey was different, and the teachers treated differently because of the fact that he was different and the fact that the government ordered them to since he has been blacklisted as a potential domestic terrorist and a threat to homeland security. It must be unnerving to have a student like that.

The only school that Huey seemed to give a damn about was lunch since it allowed him to pick at Caesar's and Jazmine's eating habits.

"Ceez, do you know what they do to cows in those industrial sweatshops that have the nerve to be called farms?" Huey declared with much scrutiny in his voice.

"No," Caesar mused right before taking a huge chomp out of his burger, "But I'm sure you are going to tell me."

"When you get an E. coli infection and start having violent diarrhea that will tear up your rectum like a bladed phallic object and start vomiting so much that you may never eat again," Huey nonchalantly stated while turning his attention away from Caesar's shocked expression and to his own veggie burger, "don't say that I didn't warn you."

Caesar dropped his burger. "Okay, not hungry."

Pleased with his success, Huey turned to Jazmine who was unusually melancholy. Huey furrowed his right eyebrow upwards out of curiosity.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Huey asked in the most sincere way that Huey Freeman could ask…which didn't really seem to be sincere on the surface by the way.

"Nothing," Jazmine mumbled and then she took her tray and left the two boys alone.

"See, Huey?" Caesar interrupted, "it's not acceptable to mention violent diarrhea at table. Damn, the hell is wrong with you?"

Huey narrowed his eyes at Caesar and then diverted his attention back at Jazmine. "I wonder what's eating at her," Huey pondered.

* * *

While the school day ended and many kids rushed out the entrance as if they have never seen outside before, Jazmine sulked in the halls. There is something wrong with this scenario. Jazmine, the little ray of sunshine, was sulking around with people watching her in the halls.

"Damn," she heard a voice holler, "Da hell iz eatin' you, Carrot Top."

Jazmine immediately turned around and glared at the offender who would have dared to pick on her wild mane at this moment. Unsurprised, it was Riley Freeman, Huey's younger brother and also Huey's yang to his yin. A Self-proclaimed gangsta and "Real Nigga." He considers himself manly beyond all comparison and despises anything remotely homosexual.

Riley, undeterred by Jazmine's glare, laughed at Jazmine's attempts to be intimidating. "Oh, look at Ms. Chia Pet ovah hur actin' all hard and shit. Girl, you bout as scurry as them cats niggas be using on the internet, " Riley cackled, "Nigga, you needta cut dat shit out."

Jazmine sighed and then began to tear much to Riley's surprise. 'Oh hell naw,' Riley thought. 'This broad ain't bout to make him look like da bad guy. Young Reezy gots a rep on the streets dat he needta maintain'

"Umm, Jazmine," Riley leaned in towards her but kept his distance, "Is you okay?"

Jazmine, unable to control her tears, gushed from her eyes and hugged Riley much to his dismay. "Riley, AM I BEAUTIFUL!" she whined…no she practically screamed.

Riley struggled to pry her Iron Clamp of a hug off, but eventually succeeded. "Yo," Riley said while wiping the tears off his shirt," Cut dat shit out!"

"Dat ain't gangsta, Jazmine," he continued, "da hell I look like? Da damn self-pity guide? Shit ,take dat ta somebody else who curr. Peace."

With that, Riley was on his way. Jazmine sat under the bulletin board with her knees and continued to cry her little heart out. A blue piece of paper slowly floated beside the somber child. Jazmine got a glance of it at the corner of her teary eye, and picked it up.

"The Woodcrest Junior Beauty Pageant," her eyes scanned the rest of the paper, "All participants are automatically assigned a beauty coach?"

Her eyes grew wide with that statement. The joy and cheerfulness in her eyes returned. 'This is my last hope to be beautiful.' She went from sulking to skipping with glee. Even if she didn't win, the beauty coach will most likely fix her broken hair.

_When Jazmine and Huey first met..._

_Jazmine was shy. Back in her hometown, she always had trouble making new companions because she was always felt that she was different. Like the students saw something was off about her. Her parents hoped that this would be remedied with the move to Woodcrest. The girl's parents took a sigh of relief when they saw a boy looking through a window watching them move. He had short, black hair, and of African descent. He also sported seemingly angry disposition on his face. Despite the child's demeanor, Tom and Sarah were glad that they was a kid around Jazmine's age that lived right accross the street. After the family finished packing, they saw an Afro wearing boy carrying a newspaper walk towards the same house they saw the angry kid in just a few hours ago. Sarah took it upon herself to encourage her bi-racial daughter to speak to him. The girl reluctantly walked behind him and introduced herself._

_"Umm, excuse me..." the girl finally released with her arms folded behind her back. To her surprise, the seemingly recluse child stopped dead in his tracks, but didn't turn around to face her. Jazmine was a little discouraged by the kid's ackwardness, but she wasn't completely deterred._

_"Hi, I just moved in across the street. My name is Jazmine," she continued, "Whats yours?"_

_"Huey," the boy flatly responded with his back still turned towards her, "Its good to have more black people around."_

_Jazmine was a little dumbfounded by his observation that she was completely black. In fact, she wasn't even sure if he even looked at her yet._

_"Um...Gee, um why...," the girl stuttered along, "Why would you think I was...um..black?"_

_Huey turned around and gave her stern look. His amber eyes borrowed deep in her emerald ones._

_"Well first of all, **Mariah**," Huey said with emphasis, "Your afro is bigger than me."_

_Jazmine subconsciously grabbed her hair as if it was in danger. "I don't have an afro," she combed her hair down as if it would make a difference, "My hair is a little frizzy today."_

_"Angela Davis' hair was just a 'little frizzy'," the deadpan kid retorted while walking away, "**You** have an afro."_

_Jazmine was infuriated with the boys offensive words. "I do not!" she yelled and then raised an eyebrow, "And who is Angela Davis?"_

_"A retired professor who once ran against Reagan on the Communist political ticket. She had the same skin tone and hair as you."_

_Noticing the girl's oblivious blank stare, he shook his head._

_"Okay Jazmine, if you are not black, then what are you? Hmmm," He inquired._

_"Well, lets see,"Jazmine twiddled her fingers and then placed her pointer on her chin while pondering,"My mother is one-quarter Irish, one-quarter Swedish and One-Half German."_

_The confrontational kid rolled his eyes while the befuddled Jazmine continued._

_"And my Grandmother on my Father's side is part Cherokee..."_

_Huey tuned her out because she was committing the same crime that most people of multiple racial backgrounds committed: when they have a lighter background, they automatically think that part is greater than the darker one. In fact, her whole explaination never once referenced her racial background. She seemed to think that most ethnicities are all only one shade of color and she intentionally highlighted the European ones. Huey was convinced that one, if not both, of her parents were intentionally excluding half of her background, and his first clue was when she fervently denied being black. If someone thought that she was white, would she be relieved or give that person the same opposition to claim as she was giving him? From that point on, Huey took an active duty to remind her that she has African vein in her blood as well as the Caucasian._

_"...And his father was from Haiti, I believe," she finally finished, "Which makes me-"_

_"Which makes you," Huey cut her off as he turned around and walked away, "As black as Richard Roundtree in "Shaft of Africa."" _

_"Does not!" the mulatto protested," And who is Richard Roundtree?"_

* * *

"Jazmine! Your …umm…beauty coach is here!"

Tom and Sarah didn't put up much resistance when Jazmine asked to participate in the beauty contest. Normally, the interracial couple would at least deliberate with one another before making such a drastic decision like you would expect lawyers would do, but since Tom's disparaging remarks towards his bi-racial daughter, they would agree on anything that would help their supposed "baby girl's" self-esteem issues. However, they weren't expecting who… or maybe a "what" …was at their front door.

Jazmine sprinted down stairs and saw what was maybe the unholiest of the unholy sights that her emerald eyes have ever laid upon. Her "beauty coach" was a tall, slender dark man almost the same skin tone as Uncle Ruckus. He wore green high heels and sported a long, flamboyant, green, sparkly coat with what seemed to be green belts wrapped around his arms…in the middle of spring. Apparently he was a man that went beyond the impossible in terms of fashion sense. His hair was combed down on one side of his head and spiked on the other. He held out hands in a stereotypically arrogant manner with his elbow just below his shoulders while his forearms were held up. His hands dangled as if he just got a permanently unfinished manicure. One of his mitts loosely gripped on a bundle of papers.

Jazmine's expression matched her father's, who had been in awe at this site for quite awhile since he was the one that opened the door: their jaws hung as low as possible. Sarah found it so amusing that she held her hand over her mouth to control her barely audible giggle.

The man's condescending eyes scanned the residence as if he were waiting for something. Sarah eventually caught on.

"Well, Jazmine, aren't you going to introduce yourself, sweetie?" Sarah snorted, still trying to hold back her laughter.

The little mulatto girl blinked.

"Hi, I'm Jazmine."

"Oh, so you **do **have mannahhhs," the man cut his eyes towards Tom, "Unlike _someone_. Close your mouth, sweetie"

The prestigious district attorney, offended, responded.

"Pardon me," his voice laced with skepticism, "but we still haven't gotten your name yet. You just said that you were Jazmine's beauty coach."

"And I still haven't gotten yours eithahhs," the man snapped his fingers at Tom, "But since I am just bettahhhs than you. I am known as The Great Miss Cee."

The curious girl knotted her eyebrows together, "Umm 'Miss' Cee?"

"The Great Miss Cee, honey," corrected the gaudy wearing male, "The state sent me to deal with your…"

The Great Miss Cee pervasive eyes scanned Jazmine from head to toe. Judging from his eyes, he wasn't too pleased.

"Your special 'sizzy'," he finished as he used his hands as air quotes and then sauntered, his paws in the same position in the way he stood, towards the girl's mother, who was on a brink of laughter, and handed her the papers, "Herahhh mah credentials, accolades, and accomplishments."

The blue-eyed lawyer scanned the page filled with celebrity names, some she was familiar with and others not so, such as Vivica A. Fox, Nicki Minaj, and Jada Pinkett Smith. It was safe to say that her daughter was in capable hands…despite his hands never going below his shoulders.

"The Great Miss Cee," the bashful child interrupted, "I really need your-"

"Say no mah, child," the flamboyant flamer snapped his fingers at Tom, "You get mah bags. Chop-chop."

He turned his attention towards Jazmine, again.

"And you come with me. We have a lot to work to do."

* * *

The boys had the same routine after school. Riley would be stuck in detention while Huey and Caesar walked back to class because Uncle Ruckus drove the bus that went back to their neighborhood and Ruckus "don't want no baboons messin' with da beautiful white chillin." When the boys arrived home (more precociously Huey's), they sat at the kitchen table and did their homework. Most of the time, Jazmine and Cindy (if she wasn't in detention with Riley) would join them, but due to precarious circumstances, this didn't permit this. Jazmine was off doing whatever and Cindy just had to antagonize a teacher with Riley. So it was just the vitriolic best beds.

"You know," Caesar interjected while both he and Huey were doing their homework, "I will never understand Black conservatives. It's like they want to be made fun of and ridiculed by the same party they are representing."

Huey didn't even turn his attention away from his work and kept writing diligently.

"Maybe they're masochists," the perpetual frowner finally inputted.

The dread head looked up and pondered the idea," That would explain why Michael Steele funded a private jet full of BDSM gear with the RNC money."

The cynical child's head jerked up and his left eye twitched as if he saw something atrocious, "You just had to say that? Now pervasive images are clouding my mind."

Caesar smirked, "Speaking of MC Mike. Doesn't he look like Humpty Dumpty from Digital Underground?"

"Caesar, I think that we are the only kids our age that would actually appreciate that joke," the boy closed his book, "I'm done."

"Aww, man! You always get done before me!" the dread head pouted, "Are you a robot or something? Do you feel anything? Do you feel happiness? Regrets? Joy?"

Huey scooted out of his seat and shrugged.

"If it means anything, I have regretted one thing."

Caesar lifted an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Spending a good chunk of my life under the Bush administration."

The optimistic boy laughed, "It's a good thing that Obama is in office then."

Huey didn't respond. The afro dynamo just seemed to space out. Caesar waved his hand in front of Huey's face trying to get his attention.

"Huh, what?" the started Huey stirred.

"You iight, man?" Caesar questioned, "You've been spacing out in Huey World a lot ever since Jazmine dipped out on us the other day."

"I don't know," the revolutionary's eyes gleamed, "She just seemed off lately."

Caesar lifted his eyebrow, "What? Are you just mad that you didn't get the chance to make her feel miserable and someone else did? I'm sure that Jazmine is just going through things. It probably isn't as dire as you're making it out to be."

Huey still looked uncertain and reluctantly responded, "I hope you're right."

"Now that's settled," Caesar stretched his arms out, "After you help me out with this, we have to get Michael Steele a woman on Adult Friend Finder. I think that may be his kind of thing."

Huey raised an eyebrow, "How do you know about-"

"Huey!" they heard a voice roar from upstairs, "Boy, hurry up and fix my camera. Shoot, I was talking to a fine yeller-bone too."

The skeptical child shoot his head in both embarassment and shame.

"Him," Caesar answered with a wry smile.

* * *

Sometimes Jazmine liked to reminisce about all the things that have happened since she moved to Woodcrest. She never expected the sudden change in location to be so enlightening. She would close her eyes and think about the good times. And sometimes, her mind would flutter towards the bad.

_The wide-eyed idealist often looked to the clouds for comfort. In her emerald rich eyes, clouds were the perfect listeners. They never refuted her claim or denounce her proclamations as pure drivel. The cotton in the sky just kept on floating as the girl stood in awe in her sun yellow dress. The summer breeze blew her orange mane and her sunflower dress into the wind._

_"Most people don't understand what it's like being different," the beige girl mused._

_"Like…"_

_She struggled to find an analogy._

_"I once saw a yellow flower right in the middle of bunch of red roses," she confidently continued with her eyes never leaving the tranquil sky._

_"Everything around it was either green or red." The naiveté placed one hand on her tiny stomach, "And here was this yellow flower. It looked lonely."_

_Her eyes wandered back towards an old oak tree and glanced at the afro bearing boy leaning on the tree who seemed to not be paying attention to her since his eyes were fervently scanning through his newspaper. She smirked._

_"That's what it is like to be biracial." Her eyes glistened, "I'm different from everyone else. My mom and dad say that makes me special. But I just think it's lonely."_

_"Jazmine," Huey interrupted the girl's moment of self-triumph._

_"Yes," the girl politely responded with her hands clasped together while turning her head completely towards her best friend._

_"You're black," he flatly retorted while his eyes left the newspaper to meet her green eyes. "Get over it."_

_"Ohhhh, be quiet," she stuck her tongue at her critic with her hands on her hips. "Nobody was talking to you anyway. Hmmph!"_

_Her nose was pointed defiantly in the air away from her cynical friend, but it didn't faze him. The boy chillingly closed his newspaper, stood next to the girl, and gazed at the same passing clouds that she so enjoyed communing with. Confused by his sudden action, Jazmine blushed thinking it meant something else._

_"One day, you come to be indebted to all who you are and not disparage it," he inputted as the wind carried his bulbous hair while his amber eyes pierced into the sky._

Jazmine snapped out her daydream and shook her head.

And sometimes, there were moments that were too obscure for her to appreciate.

* * *

Most kids looked forward to Fridays, but Huey, Caesar, and Riley have grown to detest them. Why? Because Uncle Ruckus made time off his busy and seemingly job schedule to make sure that the kids didn't catch the bus every Friday. "Take that. Yall, banana peelin' jiggaboos!"

"Sup, Huey," the dread head called out to his best friend who was just walking towards school.

Huey didn't even bother to face him.

"Well besides the fact that this hypocritical country funds Afghan warlords to stop a formerly funded by us Afghan warlord." He shrugged, "I guess that I'm fine."

Caesar just stopped and looked at his conscious, but extremely militant friend.

"Why do I even bother to ask you that question every morning?"

"Beats me," the aspiring revolutionary shrugged again. "So anything new?"

"Same old, same old," Caesar responded while rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Keep hearing about the same BP disaster. Keep hearing about the same general keep criticizing Obama about the Afghan war. Keep hearing about the same Tea Bagger movement look for excuses to justify their blatantly racist foundation while claiming that they aren't racist."

"I think Louis Farrakhan could help them with the last one. Or maybe John Mayor? Or even Don Imus? Or any white guy that made a racist declaration while declaring they aren't racist?" Huey inputted.

"They have a whole entire network dedicated to that, Huey," Caesar inputted. "It's called Fox News."

At this point, Riley was thoroughly confused with their using rambling and decided to change the conversation.

"Yo, did yall see dat ugly ass broad dats supposed to be "Jazmine's beauty coach"," Riley cackled. "Man, why is dey askin' sum two dollah ho dat look like some shit from Norbit fah beauty tips?"

Both Huey and Caesar glanced at each other. Caesar was trying to hold his laughter in while the boy's brother wasn't amused with his sibling's ignorance.

"Umm, Riley," Huey finally said, "That woman was obviously a man in feminine attire."

Riley's jaw dropped as if an explosion just occurred.

"Nigga, is you serious?" He was skeptical at first, but, to his surprise, Huey was being dead serious.

"Oh shit," his eyes widened and then closed as he was on the brink of bursting into hilarity. "Dat fairy faggot ass nigga."

Unable to control his laughter, the corn rowed deviant held his stomach and doubled over as if he were in pain while giggling uncontrollable.

"Dats da gayest nigga EVAH!"

Huey and Caesar just shook their heads simultaneously and then proceeded to walk away from the scene.

* * *

"Jazzayyyy!" The flamboyant one clapped his hands calling for the girl.

Jazmine stammered over to her coach wondering what he wanted now.

"Did I do something wrong, The Great Miss Cee?"

The poor mulatto child has been worked tooth and bone to at least satisfy Great Miss Cee, but it was to no avail. The belligerent cross dresser seemed to be focused on only the poor girl's faults. When a single book fell off her little head, the Great Miss Cee would throw a fit.

"God fucking dammit!" he'd exclaim.

When her model walk was less than satisfactory, the Great Miss Cee would pleasantly call for Tom, smile at the unsuspecting lawyer, and then punched the shit out of him.

"Fuck you, you punk ass bitch," he roared in a, unusual for him, masculine tone. After the sudden transformation, the pugnacious one would return to his usual feminine tone and shrug off the event as if nothing happened. "That felt better."

Jazmine was worried. She didn't want to be chastised, again, especially not the day before the climatic event. Her self-esteem is already on an all-time low, and she wasn't too sure if her dad had enough of a jaw to withstand another one of the Great Miss Cee's furious right hand.

He cut his eyes away from the extremely fragile girl. "Good jawwwb," he waved his hand.

Jazmine's eyes widened in astonishment and her mouth fell open. She couldn't believe her ears.

"W-w-what?"

"You bettah hear me this time," his eyes narrowed. "GOOOOOOOD JOOOOOOB."

The girl blinked her eyes and then a wide grin overtook her beige face.

"OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD," she squealed as she pranced around simultaneously.

"Calm down, sweetie," the girl's coach placed his firm hands on the girl's petite shoulder's. "The Great Miss Cee isn't finahshed yet."

Jazmine gulped and looked into his dark eyes with hesitation and fear. "You're not?"

* * *

_Every other weekend, Jazmine and Huey would have a discussion on the seemingly symbolic hill, but it wasn't of their own desires. It was merely coincidence that the two would always meet on the same hill. To Huey, it was a place that allowed him peace and tranquility away from the chaos also known as his own household. To Jazmine, it was the location that allowed her to clear her mind. It was always a pleasant surprise for Jazmine to see her knowledgeable best friend reading a newspaper or any other literary source because it often meant that he was either willing to listen to her or going to let her talk his head off until her little heart was content. It was a win-win for the girl regardless of the outcome. But this particular day was different._

_"I hate summer," the yellow wearing girl sighed with her knees tucked into her chest while picking at her hair. "My hair's all big and poofy. I just wish it could look like-"_

_"Gee, I hate to interrupt," Huey stated sardonically while raising his hand to point at the sky. "But what do you think of those clouds over there?"_

_The mulatto raised an eyebrow in confusion, and then deliberately gazed at the magnificent sky. _

_"Do you like them?" Huey looked at her as if he were running out of patience._

_"Of course," She exclaimed. "They're all big and pretty and…I don't know."_

_"They just look nice, you know," she added in. "They look big and soft."_

_"I like them," she finally finished and then noticed that question was out of place. _

_"Why?" the oblivious child asked her incredibly enigmatic friend._

_"Just curious," the boy began reading his book again. "Now what were you saying?"_

_"I was saying that I can't stand my hair," she responded with a bit of annoyance in her voice. "You don't pay attention to me."_

_Without even exchanging a look with her, Huey gave her one final statement._

_"Neither do you."_

* * *

Huey Freeman's day has barely started yet, and he was already dreading it. It was bad enough that he was illegally segregated from public transportation("HaHa, you big nosed chimps"), but now an other being that irked him to no end dared to invade his personal proximity. This person was the living incarnant of everything Huey despised with America's hedonistic and hypocritical society, as he so put. If Huey were to physically accost this person, "not a court would send him to jail," as Huey so delicately put it. Even worse, this person dared to approach and, god forbid, greet him.

"Sup, Big Huey!"

Huey physically and mentally winced as Caesar and Riley turned around and faced whomever called. To their dismay, it was Cindy Mcphearson. Cindy was a confused little white girl that was a product of watching too much BET and listening to studio gangsters.

"Wassup, C-Murder," the younger Freeman responded, not nearly as reluctant as the other two.

"Nothin' much, Young Reezy," the girl smirked. "Still gettin' heat from da Fam after what we did ta Ms. Uptight, da otha day."

"Yeah," Riley chuckled. "Had dat ho cryin' like Chris Brown."

"Why are you here, Cindy?" Huey interrupted.

"Well since mah girl's are too busy keepin' an eye out fo mah candy hustle and Jazmine is too busy fo a sistah now and days," Cindy shrugged. "I thought I'd hang out with the Fundraiser since ain't nothin' else to do."

Huey got a glance at the belligerent blonde's shirt. The words ,"Free Weezy" were enbrazened acrossed the cloth. His eyes twitched as if he were about to lose it. In an act of dissonant serenity, he calmly asked about it.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

Cindy raised an eyebrow in confusion, and then realized that he was referring to her shirt. She suddenly started chessing.

"You know." The girl responded. "Just showin' my support fah my man, Weezy. " "I mean he was wrongfully put in prison off of some bullshit, and I'm just tryin' to help a brothah out."

"What makes you think he was "wrongfully" put in prison," the Afro Cynic emphasized with air quotes.

"Weezy iz a legend, Huey. He symbolizes the hope dat shit might get bettah, ya know. His music inspires da struggle. Of course, dey would put him in prison. Why wouldn't dey? I thought dat, _of all people_, you would understand."

"First off," Huey emphatically pointed out as he began counting off with his fingers. "Lil' Wayne is not a political proponent of the struggle. His lyrics don't inpire anything. They only perpetuate the notion that hedonistic tendencies and misogynostic beliefs, all while symbolizing women as nothing more as sex tools, are the best ways to maintain a lifestyle."

"And," Caesar cut in. "He sucks."

"Second," Huey continued. "Lil Wayne's is in no way a shining beacon in hope. Hope is irrational, but placing hope in a rapper that only wants money and sees himself as the greatest thing in all existance is like placing hope that people just might come out alive in a Jigsaw trap. He is no savior"

"And," Caesar cut in again. "He sucks."

"And finally," Huey exasperated. " Not every famous nigga that goes to jail is Nelson Mandela. Yes, the government conspires to put a lot of innocent blackmen in jail and yes, being placed in prison has a disproportional sentence in regards to the actual crime most of the time, but Wayne rightfully deserves everything he gets in prison."

"And," Caesar took a deep breath and sighed. "He sucks."

Cindy blinked. "I ain't understand a word you said."

"Man," Riley interrupted the discussion. "Don't listen to Huey McHater ovah here. He jus' mad cause Weezy gets mo' bitches and stacks mo' paper dan he will evah will in his life, son. Nigga stop hatin' and get dis paper."

Huey narrowed his eyes. "Thats it. I'm done."

Huey shook his head in disapproval and was about to walk away until Caesar pointed out a prescence approaching the quartet.

"Is that our favorite mullatto?"

Everybody diverted their attention towards the girl. She glew with happiness while her hair blew into the wind. A multitude of curls dominated her hair and hair didn't seem to be free flowing and out of control. It was the hair that she always wanted and bow finally recieved. The girl couldn't contain her joy that, finally, she was more like the crowd around her. Finally, she didn't feel like an outcast. She felt like she was accepted.

"Oh, look at mah girl, Jazmine," the blonde cooed. "You is goin' ta kill dem at dat contest girl."

"Finally, got dat nappy ass hair fixed," Riley inserted. "Bout time."

As the interracial troublesome duo gawked at the girl's hair, Huey was not amazed. His eyes projected almost deafening disapproval if eyes could physically conjugate words. His dissappointment was oblivious to the biracial girl, who was too busy sucking in the adulation from her friend, but it was clearly visible to anybody paying attention to him. Huey closed his eyes, looked down, clenched his straps of his backpack, took a deep breath, and turned around to press on towards school. Caesar was in awe of his friend's sudden mood swing.

"What's wrong?"

Without turning around and offerring his best friend a glance, Huey offered just one statement.

"Whats the point of talking if people don't ever listen?"

* * *

Its showtime.

Jazmine's big moment was finally here. All her friends were in attendence, and everybody was watching. This was her time, and nobody was going to take that from her. The girl couldn't wait for this moment and it seemed to had taken an eternity to finally come around. When the moment arrived, she was as giddy as a black girl at a Trey Songz concert. For the first time in her life, she was confident.

The contest was structured like this. Every coordinator would open and present for their prospect. They usually state what they did to help their model, and then gloat about the progress. Of course, not all were comfortable with this format.

"What kind of bullshit is this," the Great Miss Cee protested in his characteristic of uncharacteristically breaking his feminine demeanor.

"Well," the school's office assistant, who was the organizer for the event, let out in a way that shown she was clearly intimidated by his flamboyance, "the girls don't have much of a presence to simply walk down the aisle and garner the audience's attention. So we figured-"

"Whatevahhh" the fabulous flamer cut off the stutterring mess. He placed his hands on his hips and stuck his nose defiantly in the air as he walked away.

Jazmine wasn't deterred by this new obstacle. She was on an euphoric high and there was absolutely nothing that could bring her down. She felt invincible. She felt untouchable.

In the audience, the Freeman family and Caesar were looking for seats. They recieved an invitation from the Dubois household; and since Caesar's family couldn't attend, he hitched a ride with the Freemans. The only reason that Robert wanted attend was the promise of free food while Huey and Riley were dragged along for the ride.

"Man, Granddad," Riley scowled. "Why we gotta come to this gay ass shit anyways? Ain't like Jazmine supported anything we done."

"Boy hush," the griseled old man. "If you want sumthin' to eat fah dinner, then I suggest you stay yo uppity badass here and shut da hell up. Back in my day, we appreciated a free meal. Shoot mhmmm, we worked fah every bite we got. I remember back in the day when-"

Both Huey and Riley tuned their Granddad out when he uttered the words "back in the day."

Huey saw the Dubois family waving for their attention from a distance and decided that this was a time to interrupt his remininscing Granddad.

"Look, its Mr. and Mrs. Dubois." The boy interrupted, "And they saved us seats."

The quintet auickly scurried over towards the couple who were anticipating Jazmine's moment. Robert was the first to enter into his seat. Before he sat down, Huey called out tp him.

"Granddad," he called. "There are only two seats left."

The three boys just stared at eachother pondering who would take the remaining seats.

"Why don't you just have one of your boys sit on your lap, Robert," Sarah suggested.

Robert looked at his grandkids and then looked at Caesar, who had been searching through his Ipod and not really paying attention. He glanced at his boys again, and then back at the dread head.

_A second later..._

Huey and Riley sat in the remaining seats with their arms crossed while Caesar had the pleasure of sitting in Granddad's lap. Of course, the dreadhead found this moment comical.

"You are like the Granddaddy that I always wanted, but never got," Caesar snorted.

"We are still looking for that kind of Granddad," Huey stated in a monotone and flat voice.

"Boy, hush," the crotchety old man fired back at his grandson and then gave his attention to Sarah and Tom. "So when are they going to serve the free food?"

"After the pageant ends," Tom quickly responded and then glanced at the boys. "So how have you little guys been?"

"I've been keepin' it real. Gettin' this paper and not stuntin' dem hoes. Young Reezy got to watch his paperstack so da hatas ta keep on hatin'," Riley pounded his chest.

"O-kay," the lawyer, a bit stunned by his response, cut his attention to the never smiling young man at the end of the row. "How about you big guy?"

"Depends." the kid shrugged. "I've been labeled a domestic terrorist in my own country, the Teabagger movement continues to gain ground and Diddy is still cooning around."

"So he is just fine," Caesar interjected.

"Shh-Shhh. Hush. Hush. The show is about to start," Sarah frantically demanded.

"Welcome to the tenth annual Wah-Wah-Wah-wah-wah."

This show was boring. The only people that cared were the parents of the contestant that was on the stage at the time. It was just a gigantic waste of time and effort as they only attempted to bolster the girl's ego and nothing else. Granddad fell asleep and started talking in his sleep about Alicia Keys. Caesar didn't even pay attention to the pageant and kept his eyes glued to the Ipod screen. Riley took advantage of every opportunity to haze every contestant. Huey didn't even acknowledge the participants. He was reading a newspaper. The entire audience was asleep as if to say that they were dragged there.

Finally, it was Jazmine's turn. The Great Miss Cee stepped out in a golden veil covered in sequence. As he dazzled across, he took at a gander at the sea of snoozing and boredom.

"Ex-cusahhh me," the man voiced in the microphone.

Nobody made anything that would resemble a sound besides Granddad snoring and Caesar's music blaring out his headphones. There was nothing, but silence.

"Boooooo," a voice shouted from the audience. "Nigga you gay."

The Great Miss Cee, infuriated with the audience's apathy, snatched the mic off the stand and roared into it.

"If yall, muhfuckaz, don't wake da fuck up and listen ta me, I know sumthin!"

Huey lifted an eyebrow. Granddad and the rest of the audience woke up as if an atomic bomb went off. Riley's jaw dropped. The Great Miss Cee recieved everyone's attention except...

"Yeahhhhhhh," Caesar yelled while banging his head to his Ipod.

"Alright then," The Great Miss Cee cleared his throat as his voice was returning back to his regular feminine voice. "Now Ahhhh want to intrahduce mah ontrahnt, Jahzmeen Dubahhhw!"

The curtains opened to reveal Jazmine wearing a stunning blue dress. She practically glowed and illuminated the room. She was gorgeous.

But the crowd didn't care. She looked just like any other girl in the contest. There was nothing special about her.

"Its like they funneled one idea of beauty and churned it out for the masses," Huey inquired to himself.

Jazmine was stunned by the lack of audience reaction. The Great Miss Cee was pissed off.

"Oh hell naw," he spurred. "You bettah applaud mah hardwork!"

When nobody reacted to his demands, he chuckled. He chuckled like a maniac. The bystanders were a little distraught by his maniacal laughter. Before they can interrupt is creepy giggling, the Great Miss Cee took off his coat and threw the garment on the ground. People would have been disqusted by the G-string that he was sporting, but were awestruck by Dillion M134D Gatling gun he was handling. In otherwords, this guy was holding a gun that was made for helicopters. Everybody in audience fell into a deafening silence at the sight of this. Caesar, who had finally started to pay attention, and Huey said the only thing that would fit the current situation.

"Oh shit."

At that, the Great Miss Cee began blasting the humongous piece of hardware into the air. The entire auditorium burst into pandemonium and terror as everybody sprinted towards the doors.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," Tom and a few others shrieked.

"Man, this why we can't go nowhere with black folks," Caesar inserted to Huey while shoving his way through the front door.

As everyone scattered through away, the Great Miss Cee was still spraying bullets around the auditorium with a sense of purpose and indignation.

"You mah fuckaz will appreciate mah aht," he screeched.

* * *

The boys were walking as if it were any other day that didn't come after the day that a maniac wielding a helicopter gun decided to go Inglorious Basterds on innocent bystanders. Nobody was severely hurt and the culprit was still at large.

"Man, I'm telling you," Caesar held out his arms trying to convince his friend, "Jackie Chan is better than Jet Li."

Ever since the incident at the pageant, Huey and Caesar vowed to never speak of it again. So they discussion everything and anything that didn't relate to it.

"Jackie Chan is like the Chinese version of Gary Coleman." Huey shrugged. "Jet Li is like the continuation of what Bruce Lee wanted."

"Whatever, man," the dread head rolled his eyes. "You can't tell me-"

The boys suddenly stopped as their biracial friend appeared in their sights behind Huey and Caesar's favorite hangout tree. She was oblivious to their presence because her eyes were focused on golden sunset.

"Alright, peace," the aspiring emcee finished his statement and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Huey demanded.

"Look, that maniac is still at large and if he decides to come back to his masterpiece with that big ass gun..." the boy explained.

"Alright, alright, alright," the revolutionary silenced his friend. "I'll catch you later then."

Caesar nodded and then gave his buddy a peace sign as he departed. Huey turned his attention to the wide eyed girl who still had het eyes piercing the radiant sky. Huey quietly approached her and then sat down next to his shy friend. She turned to her visitor.

"Hi, Huey," she squeaked while closing her eyes in glee as her strawberry blonde hair matched the color of the twilight sky. Huey was shocked that her hair returned back to the poofy form.

"Hey, Jazmine," Huey blinked. "So what happened to your hair?"

Jazmine was confused by the question at first and then noticed what he meant.

"Oh," she curled her afro. "Daddy didn't want anything to do with my former coach so he decided to undo the perm or whatever he did to my hair as soon as we got home."

Tom's paranoia wasn't such a bad thing for once. Huey shrugged and then noticed a lone yellow flower that stood out on the hill. Huey got up and picked off the ground as his biracial friend watched him. He walked back and then handed the daisy to her.

"I figured that this flower was tired of being alone," Huey responded in an emotionless way.

Jazmine,flattered by the boy's gesture, grabbed the flimsy floral and placed it in her hair. Her emerald eyes gleamed at her friend as he sat right back next to her.

"So I hear Linsey Lohan was crying because she was sentenced 90 days in prison," she randomly inserted, trying to start a conversation.

"Eh," Huey opened up a book. "She better be grateful that she wasn't sentenced as a black man."

* * *

*sigh* Looking at my old work makes me sad.

I doubt that you guys are willing to re-review the tale if you already read this. Then again, it seems that the people who already reviewed ceased writing. So review if you find it refreshing...at all.


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